


Chapter 79 - Home

by Kabella



Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019)
Genre: Angst, Drunkenness, F/M, Hot Mess, Loneliness, Los Angeles, Love Note, M/M, Missing, Perfect, Revelations, Stupidity, Trip - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:27:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23583070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kabella/pseuds/Kabella
Summary: Tommy and Vince take a short trip home to see their gals, leaving Mick and Nikki in Vancouver to continue work on their next album.While Tommy's time home with Vince was met with unexpected, stupid behavior, he feels his time home with his wife has been nothing short of perfection, but was it really?Someone back in Vancouver has been missing him. He's becoming unraveled, under Mick's watchful eye.
Relationships: Tommy Lee/Nikki Sixx
Comments: 9
Kudos: 16





	Chapter 79 - Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is another chapter from the book that I'm currently working on. Unlike my first post, this is not a bonus chapter, but rather an end chapter to one of the many stories included in the book. Once again, a little background info from the prior chapter will be helpful. Don't want to give too much away.
> 
> Time- May 1988 (post rehab, they're sober)
> 
> Place- Vancouver BC and LA
> 
> Relationships - Tommy x Nikki. No one knows. They've been involved in Dec. 87. Tommy made the first move. Nikki was resistant. They went through lots of ups and downs to get to a place of love for each other.  
> Tommy is bi, married to Heather who does not know what he does with Nikki.  
> Nikki is bi, and has no one else right now.  
> Vince is straight, maybe bi-curious, engaged to Sharise.  
> Mick is straight, dating Emi  
> *Bob is their record producer
> 
> This chapter and the previous one that I posted, both stem from part of the same backstory. This is going to be a choose your own adventure book. So some stories follow the same track for a while, until the tracks start branching out. Each with its own distinct ending. 
> 
> For this, much like the prior, Nikki and Tommy are odds, due to Nikki's misdirected anger at Tommy. While not needed in the studio, Vince wants to visit home. He has not shut up about sunny LA since setting foot in Vancouver. He's asked Tommy to come with him. Tommy sees it merely as on opportune moment to visit his wife. Nikki however takes offense that Tommy is leaving and thinks it's because Tommy wants to get away from the trainwreck that Nikki caused. Tommy intends to call Nikki before leaving to let him know that he'll miss him while he's gone, and that going home has nothing to do with Nikki. It's just a simple visit home. 
> 
> This book, when ready, will bring you through all kinds of scenarios. I hope it will be a lot of fun for the readers. It will be uploaded on Wattpad under username kajomon, upon completion. I've got at least another month of writing.

Chapter 79 - Home 

“Holy shit, Tommy! Get the fuck up! We’re going to miss the fucking plane! I gotta call the limo now!” Vince screeches, wide-eyed and frantic, dashing towards the phone, tripping over his own boots that he left in the middle of the living room last night, and face planting on the floor. “Fuck!” is all Vince can say, as he picks himself up off the ground, ignoring bleeding rug burn on his knee and an aching wrist.

Tommy sits up in bed immediately, trying to get his weary eyes to adjust to the clock. It’s 10:30am and the plane leaves at 11:20. The limo will take 15 minutes to arrive. The ride to the airport is another 15 minutes or more. And they’ll still need to check in and get to the gate. Tommy springs out of bed. He has to pack, but he doesn’t need to pack much. He has clothes, and much of everything else he needs at home. He throws an extra T-shirt into his knapsack already full of essentials, and thinks that’s good enough. 

Next, to the bathroom to try to make himself look semi-decent for his wife. There’s no time for a shower, wishing there was since he and Vince were out last night into the wee hours of the morning at a strip club. He feels the sleaze clinging to himself. While he’s stewing about this in his head, Vince comes barging into the bathroom, half naked already from tearing his clothes off as he’s dashing around, balancing on one foot to finish pulling off his pants. 

“Out of my way, motherfucker,” Vince says, leaping into the shower.

“Seriously, Vince!? Are you crazy? There’s no fucking time!”

“I don’t have a choice, I smell like sex, and I have dried cum all over me,” Vince shouts out over the water.

“Real smart, asshole. You knew we were leaving in the morning,” Tommy yells back.

“I didn’t think that I’d oversleep! I’m almost done! Fuck! It’s fucking everywhere! Dammit! Fuck!” Vince blares, frantically scrubbing his body with soap, letting his hair getting wet under the stream of water, pink tinged water running down from his knee to the drain from the scrape on the carpeting.

“Well, hurry the fuck up,” Tommy says, trying to fluff his hair up, over-using hairspray and deodorant to mask any lingering scent, and checking for lipstick smudges around his face and collar, from a few lap dances that landed kisses all over him; broken strip club rules because, who can resist Tommy Lee? 

Vince gets out 2 minutes later, grabbing a towel from the rack, not bothering to wrap it around himself, as he jets off to his bedroom.

Tommy finishes in the bathroom, feeling like he’s ready to jet. He looks out the window, and sees the limo has arrived. 

“Limo’s here!” Tommy shouts.

“Two fucking minutes. I’m going to leave my hair wet!”

Tommy decides this is a good time to get a quick call in to tell Nikki goodbye. He reaches Bob at the studio, and asks to speak to Nikki. Bob puts Tommy on hold. He buzzes the extension in the room Nikki and Mick are in. Mick answers. 

“Nikki, you have a phone call,” Mick says, holding the phone out.

“Who is it? I’m in the middle of fixing this string on my bass.”

Mick asks who it is. Bob tells him.

“It’s Tommy,” Mick says.

Nikki’s heart starts beating fast. He wasn’t expecting Tommy to call; although he hoped. “Tell Bob one minute. I almost got this,” Nikki says, feverishly trying to hook the string around the knob, with shaky hands.

A little over a minute has passed since Tommy’s been on hold. Vince suddenly comes charging out of his bedroom with his bag, and stops to slip his boots on, which are still in the middle of the floor.

“Fuck!” Nikki snaps, as the string slips from between his fingers. “Screw it,” Nikki blares, laying his bass to the side. “I’m coming,” he says, getting up from his chair, taking the phone from Mick.

“Hello?” Nikki says…… just as Vince grabs the receiver out of Tommy’s hand, and hangs it up.

“Come on, let’s go.” Vince barks.

“Hey!” Tommy yells.

“Who you calling? Ghostbusters? Fuck them. They’re waiting for us on the plane that we’re about to miss. Come on, motherfucker!”

What more can Tommy do? He picks up his bag and follows Vince out the door.

Nikki’s ‘hello’ is met with a click and a dial tone. He puts the phone down. “He hung up,” Nikki says, still holding the receiver, looking at Mick.

“Well, call him the fuck back. Maybe it was an accidental disconnection. Hurry the fuck up so we can get back to work,” Mick suggests.

Nikki dials the number, and no one answers. Once the answering machine picks up, he hangs up.

“Uh, there’s no answer. Um, come on. Let’s get back to work,” Nikki says, stepping over strewn papers and string wrappers to get back to his seat. He takes a seat and picks his bass back up. He wonders why Tommy did that. Did he have to hang up for some reason? Why didn’t he call back then? Why didn’t he answer? He must have done it to fuck with him. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Or maybe something happened? Maybe Tommy needed help, and Nikki didn’t get to the phone in time. As Nikki tosses different theories around in his head, he attempts to rehook that string, but he can’t seem to concentrate.

“Is this your first time stringing a bass? Come on, Sixx. Get that motherfucking string wrapped up!”

Nikki looks up at Mick, shaking the thoughts out of his head. “Heh, sorry. I uh, well this one’s just slipping out of my fingers. I think I trimmed it too short. Hold on, I’ll get it,” Nikki says, faking a smile, trying to concentrate on the instrument; finally getting it hooked in and twisted tightly after another minute.

“OK. Where were we Mick?”

“To start, we’re on planet earth. Got that?”

\-------------------------

“Hurry up, motherfucker!” Vince screams at the limo driver, who just sighs. He’s one of their usual drivers and he’s used to rude behavior.

They finally arrive at the airport. The limo driver pulls up to the terminal, and Vince and Tommy jump out without even saying thank you. “Come on Tommy, Pan Am counter.”

The woman at the counter tells them the plane is departing in 10 minutes, and that the gate is a bit of a walk. Tommy and Vince book it, arriving at the gate with just a few minutes to spare. They board, sink into their first class seats, and take a deep sigh of relief.

“We fucking made it, man. Holy shit, I can’t wait to just sit back and nod off,” Tommy says.

“You got that right, buddy.”

\---------------------

The plane arrives in L.A. by mid afternoon. 

“Vin? Did you arrange for a limo to pick us up?” Tommy asks.

“Aah fuck. I didn’t think about that. Usually the office books all this shit. Uh, cabs I guess. Separate. I just want to get home. Maybe we can get together Friday night or something?”

“OK. So, I guess maybe I’ll see you then. Enjoy your time home.”

“Oh, I will. I just can’t wait to step outside in that sun. It’s exactly what I need. See you soon,” Vince says, walking ahead out the airport door to hail a cab.

Tommy lingers back for a minute. He saw a pay phone about 100 feet back, and thinks about whether he should try to call Nikki. Once he gets home, he’ll be too busy with Heather for a while. He soon realizes that a foreign phone call from a pay phone is going to be a pain in the ass. He’ll call later. Nikki is still at the studio right now anyway. He presses forward, outside, and hails a cab to take him home.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Tommy’s cab pulls into his driveway, by the time he pays the fare and gets out of the cab with his bag, he sees Heather skipping down the steps to greet him. He drops his bag on the ground, as she leaps into his arms, an immediate locking of their lips. She pushes herself back to take him in. She missed him, and the feeling is mutual.

“God, I missed you, baby,” Tommy gushes. 

“Me too, honey,” Heather says, reconnecting her lips to his.

They eventually make their way inside, and immediately get undressed for sex. They do it right on the living room rug, not wishing to waste time walking up to the bedroom. Tommy manhandles Heather’s breasts passionately, his mouth all over them. They are something that he misses. As for the sex, yeah, it’s good. It feels good. He does miss it. She smells so good too. Time to go down.

\--------------------------------------

In the meantime, at the recording studio ~

“Nikki, you just skipped an entire verse. What the fuck?” Bob barks.

“Oh shit. Did I? I’m sorry. My head is pounding. Do you have anything for it?” Nikki replies, feeling embarrassed again.

“Yeah, be right back.”

“Nikki, where’s your head?” Mick asks.

“I don’t know. I think that I just need this headache to go away. I’ll be OK once I take some aspirin or something,” Nikki says, taking a deep breath. He tells himself that he needs to just focus on the music and only the music. 

\------------------------

At the Neil residence~

OK. Nothing to report other than constant sex and soaking up the sun.

At the Lee/Locklear residence~

“Hun, I got ingredients for your favorite meal. Let’s have an early dinner, and then just have a nice, leisurely night together. Tell me about the album and Vancouver, OK? Then we’ll see what else,” Heather says.

“Sounds great, babe. And you tell me about, uh Dynasty people, or something. Get into any cat fights on recent episodes? I want to get to the ‘what else’ part of the night.” Tommy smiles wide.

“Oh, I got to pull hair on the last one that was filmed.”

“Baby, I know you’re an expert. You can pull my hair anytime. Hard. You know what I like.”

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. Can you please shower though while I’m cooking? You need to freshen up, sweetie. You’re lucky I missed you so much, or that reunion sex maybe wouldn’t have happened. Just off an airplane, ew.”

\------------------------

Mick and Nikki finish up their day at the studio. Mick suggests dinner out, then a movie rental. Nikki is not really in the mood to socialize, but he knows that he’ll only be sitting and stewing in his room. He’s afraid that Mick is going to start catching on to his depressed mood, and he’s really trying to hide it. He does his best to act normal. Music talk is the easiest subject for him to get lost in, so Nikki tries to keep any conversation on that topic. 

They wind up renting some sort of zombie apocalypse movie; Mick’s choice. Nikki thinks that it’s silly, but it keeps his mind off of Tommy for 90 minutes. Once the movie is over, Nikki excuses himself to his bedroom. He writes in his journal, and tries to think of some lyrics, but everything is off. It’s just time to lie down, and crash. A handful of sleeping pills in his mouth, and a box of tissues close by. He turns on MTV as a distraction until he successfully cries himself to sleep in his lonely bed.

\---------------------------------

Tommy enjoys his relaxing evening at home. He and Heather go to bed, earlier than they normally would, but more so just to lie in each other’s arms. They soon fall asleep. Tommy wakes up in the middle of the night, a bit confused; forgetting for a moment where he is. He feels his demure wife cradled in his arms. She fits so perfectly, like they were designed to click into one another. Her soft breathing is so sweet, and yes, she smells so nice, as they lie in their comfortable, soft bed; her silky legs, molded against his, and a dainty little hand nestled in his large hand, being caressed by his thumb. The moonlight streams through the window, and a mild breeze causes the sheer curtains to sway gently. It’s perfect. Tommy thinks that this is almost too perfect. Is there something wrong with that? How could this be so perfect, yet something feels off? He sighs, and closes his eyes again.

\--------------------------------

Thursday was much of the same for Nikki in the studio. Dopey and distracted. Bob is a little frustrated, but presses on. Both he and Mick sense that he’s having some sort of internal struggle. Mick swears, in a long talk with Bob over lunch, that Nikki is truly a workhorse, and brilliant with his music on most days. He asks Bob to give him a pass. Mick has a scratch in the back of his throat that’s telling him that it has something to do with Tommy, but he instead tells Bob that it’s Nikki’s struggle of the newness of sobriety. It’s his first time working since he’s been sober, and it’s an adjustment. Mick tells Bob that he just needs a little time to get out of his head. Bob says he understands some, having found sobriety himself a few years back. And with Nikki being the worst of the worst as far addictions go, he agrees that it must be a big change.

\--------------------------------

Vince calls Tommy up on Thursday, inviting him and Heather over to his beach house tomorrow for a little gathering of a small group of friends. Fun in the sun. They’ll be there. 

\---------------------------

Tommy and Heather get up for the day. Typically, Heather would be working today and tomorrow, except that they’re traveling for a press event over the weekend. So they start their morning off with sex, followed by a light breakfast. They spend the day around the house and yard. Although they have a gardener and landscaper come by on a regular basis, Tommy has a flair for caring for certain flowering bushes; trimming some peonies to present to his wife. She loves them, and puts them in a crystal vase on the table, but admonishes him for tracking in some debris from the garden. Still, the day has pretty much been perfect. So perfect, that he’s forgotten to call Nikki.

\--------------------

Nikki and Mick come home after work, bringing take-out home with them. Nikki sees the answering machine blinking when they enter the apartment. Two messages. He puts the bag of food down, and hits play, hoping it’s Tommy. It’s not. It’s Emi, which puts a smile on Mick’s face. The other call is from management. Nikki feels let down. Now he’s convinced that Tommy hung up purposely yesterday morning. If something happened to him, they would have heard by now from Vince. And if it was an accident, why hasn’t he called back yet?

As they’re portioning out food, Micks asks, “Is everything OK, Nikki?”

“Yeah. Why do you ask, “ Nikki responds, forcing a fake smile.

“I just sense that something’s wrong in your world.”

Nikki just raises his eyebrows and shakes his heads no, taking a plate of food to the couch.

“You can always talk to me, you know,” Mick reveals.

“I know. I’m good. Just been feeling a little run down I guess. Maybe I have a bug or something. I’ve been tired.”

“OK. Let’s have a good day in the studio tomorrow,” Mick says, dropping it, but not buying Nikki’s responses.

\---------------------------

It’s Friday morning. Last day in the studio for the week. Nikki tells himself that he has to pull it together. He knows he’s been fucking some things up, and dazing out. He didn’t get good sleep last night, a lot of tossing and turning, even with sleeping pills. He wonders if he’s already building up too much of a tolerance for them, so that they don’t work. He considers something stronger for tomorrow night, but really wouldn’t dare. 

At the studio, Mick and Nikki came to an impasse with a song.They really needed to fill in the rhythm section for the demo. Bob borrowed a drummer from one of the other bands at the studio to fill in for Tommy, just for the day, so they can make sure that they’re on the right track. Nikki is struggling with this, not liking the sight of someone else in Tommy’s place. He’s trying to be pleasant and go along with the joking and such that comes when someone else from another band crashes in on a session. Right after lunch, they’re settling back in. The sub drummer is making a few minor adjustments to the drum kit, when a small slip of folded paper flutters to the floor, falling out from behind a drumhead lug. The drummer picks it up. 

“Hey Sixx! You’re all I need,” he laughs, holding the slip of paper out.

Nikki looks up, confused, “What? Trying to figure out what the fuck he’s holding from across the room.

“I don’t know. It’s a slip of paper that fell out of one of the drum heads that says, ‘You’re all I need’ with your initials. A little love note from one Terror Twin to another?” the drummer sneers, laughing.

Nikki turns red, and hides it by turning away as he says in a sarcastic, snapping tone, ”Yeah, sure. I don’t fucking know what it is, other than one of my fucking songs.” But the problem is, that’s exactly what it is, a love note. Nikki didn’t know that Tommy kept it. It was just a little note he passed to him while he was breaking down his drum kit back in L.A. for transport. 

“Jeez, Nikki. Just kidding. Everyone jokes about you two. It just seemed opportune for the moment,” the drummer replies.

Nikki knows he has to get a grip, “Heh, I know. It just gets old sometimes. Come on, let’s get started again.” 

The drummer flicks the note to the floor. Nikki takes notice of where it lands; like a crash and burn. He also wants to pick it up later, after everyone has forgotten about it. Nikki is feeling very emotional right now. Touched that Tommy kept something so insignificant, but hurt that it probably means nothing to him anymore. Mick has carefully been eyeballing Nikki. He’s more and more convinced that Nikki’s melancholy behavior has something to do with Tommy. He sees Nikki eyeballing that paper.

\-----------------------------------

Tommy and Heather pack a tote bag to bring over to Vince’s house. Swimsuits, a change of clothes, and some other essentials. 

“How do I look? Tommy asks Heather, stepping out of his dressing area, looking like a beach bum.

“Gorgeous as always, but please change that shirt!” Heather demands.

“Why? I like this.”

“Can you please find one that doesn’t have profanity written on it? We’re not going to some redneck monster truck event.”

“It’s Vince’s house. Think he gives a shit?”

“No, but it’s not nice around Sharise and the other ladies who will be there. Just change, Tommy!”

Tommy relents, and changes. “Better?”

“Much. I love you,” She smiles big, and reaches up for a kiss on her tippy toes.

“Let’s go baby. Beach time!” Tommy squeals, whisking his arm around his wife as they leave the house.

They arrive at Vince’s beach home by mid-afternoon. There are 2 other couples there. Tommy knows them both. Music is loud and people are swimming and barbecuing under the warm L.A. sun. Tommy also spots a cache of liquor on the poolside bar.

“Hey Vin? What’s up with that?” Tommy says, pointing to the bottles.

“Aw, it’s nothing. My friends brought it for themselves.”

“Have you had anything?”

“Me? No man, I’m good. I just don’t want to stop my friends from having fun.”

“Hmm, OK,” Tommy says, walking away back over to Heather, not sure if he believes whether Vince has been nipping at the bottle.

Another couple shows up, with more alcohol. Tommy’s mouth is watering, but he doesn’t dare. The group decides to try to get a game of beach volleyball going. They play for a little while until they find that they’re getting overrun with fans, and they have to retreat back to Vince’s property.

The rest of the day wears on. Lots of food, lots of laughs, and lots of booze. Tommy continues to ignore it, currently leading his wife around in the pool by her hands, occasionally stopping to bring her close for kissing. 

“I’m so bummed that I have to leave tomorrow for work. I miss you when you’re not here. I know we kind of get used to it, but it’s been pretty hard this time around. I mean, you went from touring, to rehab, and now studio, far away. There really hasn’t been much in the way of solid time together.”

“I know, babe. We did at least have that month between rehab and Vancouver.”

“That was nice, but it should have been at least 2 or 3 months. Just some down time,” Heather laments, pouting her lips.

“Nikki was fired up, and just eager to start. I guess he didn’t want to lose his drive,” Tommy says, shrugging.

“Well, it’s so much easier for him to make these life decisions. He’s not married. It’s not really fair.”

“Married to his music, babe. It will be OK. It’s not permanent, and Nikki has never steered us wrong. At the end, we’re going to have a number one album.”

“What comes after a great album? Lots of press events and a world tour. More time away. Plus Nikki gets to have his partner, the music, with him then, while you, Vince, and Mick do without. 

Tommy swallows hard. Nikki does get to have his partner with him, and he’s standing in the pool right now with his other relationship tucked in his arms. His heart sinks, thinking about how he has yet to call Nikki. He’s kind of forgotten. He continues telling Heather, “Yeah, but he has no one to come home to, like the rest of us. Give him some leeway. It’s something he also wants. Besides, we all love the music too. We’re in it together.” 

“I know. I’m not upset. It’s just hard, and I guess I’m venting a little. I know you guys will make a great album,” Heather says, leaning in to kiss Tommy deeply. “Did you shower today, by the way?”

“Uh, no. I figured with the pool and beach, it wouldn’t matter.”

“Well, I can tell. You’re greasy. The pool water is beading up on you, and just sliding off.”

“It helps me mark my scent on you, babe,” Tommy says, raising his eyebrows up.

“You’re so gross sometimes. You’re lucky I love you,” she leans in for more kissing.

\--------------------------

As the sun goes down, Tommy sits back in a pool deck chair, smoking, enjoying the sunset, and the roar of the ocean. The ladies are inside, laughing and drinking together around the kitchen island. Tommy looks over towards Vince. He’s whooping it up with some of the guys near the poolside bar. He’s convinced that Vince is drinking. He’s going to go check it out after his smoke in peaceful solitude.

Tommy crushes his cigarette out, walks over to the guys, and puts an arm around Vince. “Hey, Vin. How ya doing?” Tommy says, in a somewhat patronizing tone, as if to let Vince know that he’s checking up on him.

“Great, T-Bone. Take a seat,” Vince says, gesturing with his hand, towards an empty chair.

Tommy isn’t quite sure yet what to make of Vince. He seems happy. But then again he is, he’s home. There’s a blunt being passed around. It gets to Tom and he passes. His friends rib him. It gets to Vince, and he takes a hit on it, while staring directly at Tommy, as if to make a statement.

“Real cool, Vin,” Tommy sighs, starting to pull another cigarette out.

“C’mon Tom. It’s a fucking party. We didn’t go to rehab for pot. It’s pussy shit. A little ain’t gonna hurt no one.”

Tommy taps the cigarette back into the box. His mouth is watering. “Maybe you’re right. Pot is really nothing to worry about. It’s just one night anyway.”

The joint gets placed in his face immediately, as his friends are eager to see Tommy throw all of the fucks that he gave, out to sea. He puts it to his lips, and savors the sweet weed.

“Thanks man. I think maybe I did need that,” Tommy says, leaning back in the chair.

An hour later, more weed has been passed around, and bottles and cans are being passed around too. Tommy knows this is not good, but he figures that it’s just one night. One night to forget any troubles, and some of the shit that’s been brewing in his head.

\-------------------------------

Evening at the apartment~

“Do you want to go somewhere tonight, Nikki? Maybe a club?”

“Ha, Mick inviting me to a club.”

“Just trying to cheer your ass up. You’ve been in a funk all week. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just get in moods sometimes. You know that, after all these years.”

Mick decides to test his theory; that Nikki’s bad mood has something to do with Tommy. “How do you think Tommy and Vince are making out back home?”

“Wait, what do you mean back home? They’re back?” Nikki asks, wide-eyed.

“No, dingy, back home in L.A.” 

“Oh….. I got mixed up. This is home base to me for now. I thought you meant here, home.”

“Nikki, our homes are in L.A. Our girls are there. Home is where the heart is.”

Nikki just nods, then sighs. “My home is where my music is. I guess that’s here,” turning away to stare intently at the TV. “And I don’t know how they’re doing. I don’t really care.”

“Well, hopefully having more fun that our dead asses.”

“Hey, um. You want to order food in? I didn’t sleep well last night. I’m going to try to relax, and take a little nap. Let me know when the food gets here.”

“OK, Nikki. Feel better.”

Mick is 100% convinced it’s Tommy, judging by Nikki’s reaction, plus that little note that the drummer flicked on the floor. He saw Nikki pick it up and pocket it. He contemplates whether he should try to talk to Nikki about it later. Aside from not understanding such a relationship, this is why he doesn’t approve of something of this nature. It fucks stuff up. Yet, he loves his band family. Mick’s concerned about Nikki.

Nikki lies down on his bed. Not really tired, but he just wanted to be alone. Why does everyone else lead a normal and simple life? Why does everything have to be so hard for him? No one understands him, and maybe he doesn’t understand them. He pulls the discarded love note from earlier out of his pocket. He picked it up, when it appeared no one else was looking, or so he thought. Nikki opens it, and smooths it over with his thumb. If only Tommy needed him too. But he doesn’t, Heather and Vince seem to suit him just fine. Nikki sticks it somewhere in the past pages of his journal for now, and just lies down.

\----------------------

Back at Vince’s home~

Everyone is pretty lit; even some of the ladies. Heather’s never been one to get sloppy drunk, but even she’s enjoyed a few. At the moment she’s steering clear of her husband. He threw up in the bushes, and he’s getting loud and obnoxious. 

“Can you ask Vince to do something about him? He’s all gross from vomit, and I’m worried he’s going to pass out or go into shock or something, or even drown in the pool. He hasn’t had anything to drink in a long time,” Heather pleads to a tipsy Sharise.

“Sure, honey. Vince hasn’t either. They’re just having a little fun, sweetie. I’m not worried, but I’ll go ask him. Maybe he can bring Tommy in to lay him down somewhere.”

“What if he throws up again?”

“That’s what cleaning ladies are for. We’re used to it, or at least used to be,” Sharise says, standing up, stumbling just a bit as she makes her way over to Vince.

“Hi sexy,” Sharise says, sidling up to her fiance.

“Ooh, what’s my girl want?” Vince replies in a sultry tone, extending his lips awkwardly for a kiss.

“Later for that, baby. It’s Heather. She’s worried about Tommy. He’s swaying around, leaning over the railing. Can you put him away somewhere safe,” Sharise asks, batting her lashes with kissy lips.

“Aw, c’mon babe. We’re just having fun,” Vince says, just as Tommy pulls down his pants in front of everyone to piss in the landscaping, yelling that he’s making the garden grow.

“Please,” Sharise says, grabbing Vince’s crotch and stroking it. “Look at Heather, she’s not having fun anymore. She’ll relax once he’s taken care of. Enjoying my girls for now, but I got you later, honey bun.”

“OK, babe,” Vince says, leaning in for a kiss. “Later you and I,” he grins, trying to tap her nose but missing it, and then looking at his finger like it’s defective.

Sharise stumbles back over to Heather, and Vince goes over to try to rein Tommy in.

“Hey T-Bone? How much did you have?” he says, blinking his eyes a million times.

“Heh, how much what? Weeeed? Whiskey? Beer? Pussy?”

“Everything, moron. You’re pretty hammered.”

“Nah, it’s just that my tolerance level has been dialed back, but it’s the same amount that I always used to have. So I’m fine!”

“That’s the problem. Your body isn’t processing it the same. Maybe you should come lay down somewhere, dude. You old lady is worried.”

“Fuck. Is it a sleepover too?”

“Fuck no, but come on,” Vince says, trying to pull Tommy by the hand; only Tommy has a death grip on the railing so that he doesn’t fall. Vince pulls so hard that Tommy’s hand slips from his grasp and he falls backwards, crashing into a little table with beer cans and bottles. Vince just lays there on his back laughing among the mess of aluminum and glass. The other guys are laughing, and one goes over, and pours the contents of his beer into Vince’s mouth from a standing position.

Vince sits up, coughing. “Hey motherfucker, don’t get me wet. Only my fiance gets me wet tonight,” Vince starts laughing, thinking he’s so clever.

“Need a hand,” Tommy says, standing over Vince, with his hand out.

As he stoops downward, he accidentally tips his open beer, spilling more on Vince. “Oh shit, my beer!”

“Oh shit is right. Get me up motherfucker,” Vince snaps. He grabs the rest of Tommy’s bottle rudely from his hand, and pounds the rest himself; chucking the bottle into the grass, then belching in Tommy’s face.

“Fuck, man. Now I don’t have a drink,” Tommy says, still holding his hand out, as if the bottle was still in it.

“Here,” a friend says, placing a more than half empty bottle of whiskey in his hand.

“That’s more like it, dude,” Tommy says, tipping the bottle in jolly fashion.

“Come on, Tom. We have to go into the house dude. We have to, or I’m going to get my ass chewed. And I won’t be getting pussy tonight.”

“What? What’s in the house?” Tommy asks, confused.

“Let’s go see, OK” Vince says, leading Tommy in, pulling him by his hand.

“Shit Vince. You got a real nice spread here.”

“You’ve been in my house plenty of times, moron.”

“What? This house? Fuck, man.” Tommy starts, laughing.

“See those motherfucking stairs? We gotta get to the top of those, OK?”

“What’s up there? Strippers?” Tommy, says grinning.

‘There’s strippers up there? Holy shit, let’s go!”

“Fuck, Vin! That’s like a fucking snowy Swiss mountain peak, with all that white ass carpeting. We need a fucking gondola to get the fuck up there.”

“What’s a gondola? Sounds like an STD.”

“Gonorrhea, dude. That’s what you mean.”

“What? I don’t have that.”

Huh? Who has it then?”

“You do, bro,” Vince says, laughing, punching Tommy in the arm.

“Man, you sure have a nice fucking house,” Tommy says.

“Come on, I’ll show you the upstairs. It’s really nice. Plush wall to wall carpeting.”

“The better to fuck on, right. Heh heh,” knocking Vince in the hip.

“You don’t have to tell me, “Vince says, dragging Tommy to the staircase.

“Holy shit. You might miss your plane on Sunday, by the time you climb that shit.”

“Fucking watch me run up them,” Vince poses in a runner’s stance, and sticks his tongue out over his lip, as he readies himself for the tremendous feat ahead.

“Heh heh. Hey Vin! Ready, set, go!”

“Go?”

“Yeah, go. Dude come on. I’m timing you.”

Vince takes off, and makes it 3 steps before stumbling, and 7 steps before he smashes his face a few steps above it. “Aw, fuck, my nose.” Vince says, cradling his nose.

Tommy is on the floor dying of laughter. “!0 seconds to failure! I’m coming for you Vinnie!”

After about 5 minutes, the 2 drunks make it to the top of the steps. They just sit on the carpeting, like they’re recovering from climbing Mt. Everest. Tommy somehow got the opened bottle up there with him. Still some in there too. He takes a long swig, and hands it to Vince.

“See that room at the end of the hallway? I fuck there. That’s where I do most of my fucking,” Vince says, taking a drink.

“Oh,” Tommy says, eyes-wide, nodding, like that was the most revealing thing he’s ever heard.

“But, this is the room where all of the other motherfuckers go,” Vince says, pointing to a guest room, 5 feet away from them.

“Who are the other motherfuckers?”

“You, and I don’t know. Just not me because I fuck down there. Come on,” Vince says, getting up on his hands and knees to crawl into the room.

Tommy follows, “It’s fucking dark in here? How do the motherfuckers see?”

“I see youuu!” Vince says, punching Tommy in the shoulder.

Tommy spies a lamp on the nightstand and attempts to turn it on, knocking it over, “Oh shit. Sorry, man. I hope your girl doesn’t collect antique shit.”

“Nah. She buys new shit on my buck. Light switch is on the wall,” Vince says, rising up on his knees to flick the switch.

The room illuminates. One lamp on the far table, and the other, still working, on the floor.

“Let there be light!!!” Tommy shrieks.

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t need you to announce my every fucking move,” Vince says, taking another swig from the bottle, as he slides down the wall, like an slimey ameoba, to sit on the rug. 

“So where’s the strippers?” Tommy asks.

“What strippers?”

“You said that there’d be strippers up here.”

“I didn’t say that, stupid.”

“Then what the fuck am I up here for?” Tommy says, lying on his back on the floor.

“Uh, I think that I’m supposed to put you to bed.”

“Aw, that’s sweet, Vin, but I’m not sleepy. Nope.”

“Listen, asswipe, I’m not going to get laid tonight unless you go the fuck to sleep,” Vince says, crawling over to Tommy on his knees and an elbow, while shaking his finger towards him, eventually pressing his finger on Tommy’s nose. “You gotta get up on the bed dude.”

“What bed?’

“Right here man,” Vince starts slapping it. “This is the fucking bed.”

“That’s a bed? Where the fuck am I? Where’d the pool go” Tommy asks in a delirious tone.

“Yeah. Fuck, just get in there. Come on, man. I need to fuck at some point tonight. You’re cramping my style.”

“What about me!! I wanted to fuck tooooo! Is Heather here? Where’s Heather?”

“Heather?” Shit, I don’t know. She was here a minute ago. She looked sad.”

“Wait. What? Heather is sad? What happened?”

“I don’t know, man. I think we’re just fucked. I don’t know where Sharmise is either.”

“Sharmise? Who?” Tommy asks, popping his head up, blinking his eyes.

“That fuckin girl that I fuck, you know Shanice.”

“Oh, right, her. I haven’t seen her, dude.”

“Well, fuck. That’s why you need to get into the bed. Come on, sit the fuck up,” Vince says, yanking on Tommy’s arms.

“OK, ok. Stop,” Tommy says, trying to get to his knees, holding onto the night stand. He somehow gets tangled in the phone’s cord, and pulls it down. “Heh, heh, phones for you, Vin. I think it’s Sharise. She wants to fuck you.”

“Really?” Vince lurches for the phones, cord still wrapped around Tommy, pulling it tighter. “Fuck. It’s a dial tone.”

“Man, I’m sorry. Heh, I was kidding you. She wasn’t on the phone. I got you good, Vinnieee!” Tommy laughs, trying unsuccessfully to get the cord untangled from his arms.

“Fuck you. I’m trying to help you, and you’re fucking around like a damn clown.”

“Dude, I just remembered though. I have to make a real phone call. I need to call Nikki.”

“Fuck Nikki. You going tell him you're drunk?”

“He doesn’t have to know. Does he?”

“You sound drunk. That’s why you have to get into bed.”

“You’re bullshitting. Help me call Nikki. My hand is wrapped up.”

“OK…. Fuck, what’s his number?” Vince asks, Looking up at Tommy.

“Nikki’s number?”

Yeah, his fucking number.”

“Heh, Nikki’s fucking number is 69. He likes that number.”

“His phone number?”

“I don’t know his phone number. I just need to call him. I didn’t call him. Nikki’s gonna be mad at me.”

“Tell him to fuck off.”

“I don’t want him to fuck off. I want you to fuck off.”

“Of course you don’t, Tom. He’s your lover isn’t he?” Vince jests.

“Me and Nikki lubbers? Nah, we don’t do that,” Tommy slurs, grabbing the whiskey for some more.

“Sure you don’t. Come on, Tom. You can tell me. It’s just me, Vince!” he says, nuzzling his head towards Tommy.

“No, it’s nothing, Vin. It’s just nothing,” Tommy says, sliding back down to the floor.

“But not completely nothing right? You kiss him, right?”

“Heh, you’re trying to trick me into saying that I kith Nikki. I can tell you are.”

“Am not.”

“Are too, and Nikki says it’s because you’re jealous and want to kith us too.”

“Ha! You said ‘too!’ That means you do kiss him!”

“What? I didn’t say I kith him. You want to kith us. Is it me or Nikki you want?”

“I don’t want to kiss either of your diseased lips.”

“We’re not diseased, Vin. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“See, Tom. There you go again. You say I’m missing out. That means you are doing something.”

“What are you trying to say?” Tommy says, crinkling his brow.

“Nothing nevermind. I just know. That’s all,” Vince huffs.

“Well I don’t. I still want to know if it’s me or Nikki.”

“Does it matter?” Vince says, taking another swig, handing the last few sips to Tommy.

“That means it’s someone then.”

“Fuck you. I told you it doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me. You’re one of my best friends, Vin. I gotta know these things. You know?” Tommy says, lowering himself back down to the floor, after finishing the bottle.

“You really want to know, Tommy?”

“Give it to me!” Tommy says, with a sudden burst of energy.

Vince leans down to Tommy’s face and stares at him for a minute; or maybe he’s just trying to figure out which one is Tommy’s face, since he’s seeing double. He’s really not quite sure, and he feels sick, hanging his face upside-down. Tommy reaches his hand up, and haphazardly pulls Vince down by his hair, attempting to meet his lips. Somehow it actually happens; their lips are touching. Then it truly happens….. Tommy lets the loudest belch roar out from his mouth. Vince got the brunt of it, and the aftershocks.

“Oh my god, you disgusting motherfucker! What the hell is wrong with you! Damn, Nikki can fucking have you. You probably give the dirty slob a hard-on with that.”

Tommy is just laughing his ass off on the floor. “Fuck, I actually didn’t mean that, Vin. Seriously.” But he can’t stop laughing.

“You’re a sick puppy. Do you do that to Heather?”

“Heather? Oh my god, where is Heather?”

“Listen dumbass, that’s why we’re up here. I’m suppose to be getting you into that fucking bed. Just get in the damn bed, pleeease. I need to get laid tonight.”

“Fuck the bed. I like the floor. Don’t you, Vin? The room doesn’t spin as badly from down here. Can I sleep right here?”

“Yeah. I guess that’s good. OK. Goodnight,” Vince says, as he starts crawling towards the door, slamming his head right into the doorframe, since he wasn’t able to judge exactly how close to it he was. “Ahhh. Fuck me!” Vince says, crashing to the ground.

“Was that your head, dude?”

“Fuck off.”

“Aw, baby need a kith on boo-boo?” Tommy offers.

“Nah, I’m good. Just gonna crash right here for a bit. I’m afraid I might break my neck going down the stairs.”

\--------------------------------------------

At Mick and Nikki’s Place~

Mick knocks on Nikki’s bedroom door. “Dinner is here.” There’s no answer. He opens it. “Dinga-linga-ling, come get your fucking dinner!”

Nikki sits up suddenly. “Holy shit! What time is it? What day is it?”

“Same day. You asked me to order dinner, then wake you up!”

“That’s right. The nap confused me,” Nikki says, rubbing his face.

“Well, are you getting up? Otherwise, I’ll take my helping, and put the rest in the fridge.”

Nikki nods, “I’m getting up.”

Nikki trudges out to the living room a few minutes later. 

“Nikki, you look like hell in a blender. When’s the last time you showered?”

“I don’t know. Maybe 2 days ago. The days are kind of blending together.”

“Get your food, and come sit on the couch with me. Not too close though.”

Nikki rolls his eyes, but does as Mick suggests.

“What’s up with your mood. Seriously, OK? I know you get like this sometimes, but you usually manage to still put on a game face, and get things done. You’re not able to do that anymore.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s being away from everything I’m comfortable with. Maybe I’m lonely.”

“We’re all kind of lonely up here. And I can’t believe that I’m saying this, but we have each other at least; to be lonely together.”

“I know Mick, and I appreciate that. It’s just in all aspects of my life, I think. I don’t have many people that I’m close to. Very few. It seems like as time goes on, instead of gaining more trusted friends, I lose more. People didn’t like me on drugs. People don’t like me off drugs. Maybe people just don’t like me. And it’s not like I give a fuck. People’s opinions of me don’t define me, but I don’t know why I can’t at least maintain what I have, or what I thought I had,” Nikki reveals, staring at the plate of food on his lap.

“I’m right there with you. I got my girl though. I know maybe that’s been hard for you, not having anyone?”

Nikki shrugs. “I’m OK. I guess sometimes though, it makes me feel like the outlier, who has no one to go home to or to even call. In other words, there’s no one who misses me.”

“I think I know of someone who misses you.”

Nikki gets the feeling that he knows exactly who Mick is referring to. He knows that Mick has been trying to extract information from him for at least the past day. He decides to keep it to himself, yet still says, “I think you’re wrong. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Nikki starts to eat from his plate.

“OK. Just a little worried about you.”

“I know. Thanks for caring. I’ll be fine.” 

“Do you want to go to a movie tonight? Friday the 13th Part 135?”

“Heh, close enough. I don’t even know what part this one is. One part too many. They started getting stupid after the first few. Of course, I’m always game for stupid horror flicks, I guess. I’ll let you know.”

“Either that, or we’re breaking out the board games.”

“Should we change the band name to the Waltons? Fuck that.”

\----------------------------------------

Saturday morning at the Neil residence~

“Tommy? Wake up. Tommy?” 

Tommy blinks to, and sees his wife in front of his face coming into view. “Where am I?”

“You’re still at Vince’s house. You passed out here last night?”

“What? Oh my god. I barely remember,” Tommy says, sitting up. He was still on the floor, with the phone cord wrapped around his arm, just where he passed out the night before.

“Tommy, you went overboard last night with the drinking. You should know better. It kind of ruined our last night together.”

“Oh fuck. I don’t know what got into me. I’m sorry, baby.”

“Well, I went home last night by myself. I’m ready and packed now to leave for work. I came back to say goodbye since I guess I won’t see you again for a while.”

“Babe, I’m sorry. Shit. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging,” Tommy says, still trying to gather his bearings and remember what the hell happened last night. “I’ll come home again for the weekend in 2 weeks. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“I just wish you didn’t carry things too far. But, it is what it is now. I’ll see you in 2 weeks then.”

“I know. Everyone was giving me stuff. I guess I just went crazy. No one tried to stop me. No more, OK?”

“Alright. I love you. I’ll see you soon,” Heather says, kissing his forehead.

“Babe, lips,” Tommy says, pointing to his lips for a kiss.

“Hun, you’re a little wrecked and gross right now. I love you and your kisses, but save them for next time,” she says, kissing him again on the forehead.

“Sorry about that. I love you too.”

Heather leaves. Tommy just sits in the quiet room for a while longer. Trying to remember what happened, as he unwraps the phone cord from his arm. He knows Vince was up here with him last night, but he’s not here now. He thinks he remembers trying to kiss him, or vice versa. He doesn’t really remember too much else. He gets to his feet and sees the staircase to the left. Now he remembers the difficulty of trying to climb that sweeping, curved staircase last night. He thinks that if he attempts to walk down them right now, he might just not make it. He insteads turns right, to go to a bathroom. He takes care of business and freshens up in there with a quick shower. He feels a bit better and together now.

Tommy gets downstairs with no issues, and smells food. He’s drawn to it, and sees Sharise cooking what he assumes is breakfast. One of his friends and his wife are sitting at the kitchen table already eating. They wave, and ask how he is. He says hey and tells them that he’s fine. They rib him a bit about his antics last night.

“Good morning, Tommy. Did you see Heather,” Sharise asks.

“Yes, uh, she came and said goodbye to me. She’s off for a press event,” Tommy says, not sure whether to sit or leave.

“I’m making breakfast. Pancakes, eggs, and sausage. Take a seat. There’s coffee too.”

“Thanks. It sounds good and smells good. Um, is Vince around?”

“He’s out by the pool. Found you two passed out last night.”

“Yeah, Heather filled me in. I’m going to go talk to him for a few minutes, then I’ll be in for breakfast. Thanks for doing that.”

“OK. There will be plenty.”

Tommy walks out of the pool deck and sees Vince sitting at the edge with his legs in the water. It’s only mid-morning, but he can tell it’s going to be a hot day already.

“Hey, Vin,” Tommy says, sitting next to him at the pool’s edge.

“Hey, T-Bone. Did you get to see Heather?”

“Yeah. She woke me up to say goodbye. How are you feeling?”

“Kind of like shit. Sharise isn’t exactly happy with me, and yeah, I know that we shouldn’t have drank last night. I mean, it was just one night, but still. I know that we knew better. I don’t want to fuck things up with the band.”

“Me neither,” Tommy laughs. “I guess I had fun though. I miss it sometimes. It’s going to be an uphill battle for the rest of my life.”

“Same. Are you going to tell Mick and Nikki?”

“Yeah. I think they should know. We’re supposed to be keeping each other accountable.”

“Hmm, I wasn’t sure about telling. I don’t know. You do think we should say something?”

“There were others here last night. Nik and Mick don’t need to hear it from someone else, you know. It will be OK. They’ll bitch and yell a bit. Call us names, but then it’s done. We just need to all stick together, and trust each other.”

“I know you’re right. Just always thinking of alternative ways to do things.”

“Did you eat yet?” Tommy asks.

“Just coffee so far. I’m going in soon. Sharise is being a little pissy towards me. She’ll get over it. She found me passed out last night, halfway through the guest room door. I don’t really know. She was trying to get me up, and I was carrying on about having sex, but not able to even find my own dick. She got a little frustrated with me. Somehow I made it down the hallway to my bedroom, but never made it into the bed. It’s funny how we used to be able to function on all that shit we took. Take a few months off from it, and everything resets. I couldn’t do jack shit last night.”

“Yeah. I haven’t felt that drunk in years. I mean, I guess I was in a bad way at times during those crazy years, but most of the time I felt like I could get up and do stuff. Last night was kind of fucked in that respect,” Tommy says. “Hey, I’m going to get food. Wanna come?” Tommy stands up, and lends his hand out to help pull Vince up.

“Yeah,” Vince says, getting up, then taking Tommy’s hand. “Hey,” he says, grabbing Tommy by the arm. “Do you remember belching in my face last night?”

Tommy laughs, “Yeah, I remember. No big deal, right?”

“Yeah, no big deal. Just wanted to clear that up.”

“Me too. Oh, and I decided while I was in the shower that I’m going to fly home today, instead of tomorrow. Heather’s gone, and well, I just want to get back. After breakfast, I’ll call the office to book me a flight today.”

“I gotcha,” Vince says, raising his eyebrows up. He thinks maybe that was a really subtle way of Tommy saying that he wants to get back to Nikki. He’s not positive, but he’ll take it. He doesn’t know if Tommy or Nikki will ever outright reveal what they’re doing behind closed doors, but he thinks maybe Tommy’s a slight bit more comfortable in him knowing. He’s going to leave it alone for a while

\-----------------------

After breakfast, calling the Motley office, getting a ride home, repacking his belongings and some extras, vegging for a bit, and getting a limo ride to the airport, Tommy is finally on a plane, on his way back to Vancouver. It’s time to decompress and think about some of the things that have been brewing in his head. Everything from drinking and using pot, to a near kiss with another bandmate, to bigger things, like his distance from Nikki, and his relationship with his wife. It’s a lot to make sense of, but Tommy doesn’t like unresolved issues.

He already knows that he’s going to tell Nikki and Mick about the drinking. As for Vince and the near kiss, he determines that it really wasn’t a big deal. They were drunk, and nothing actually happened. Although something nearly did, and Tommy doesn’t know what to make of that. It could have been 100% pot and alcohol. He wonders if it was part of his desire to draw him in for a threesome. He does know that there are no real feelings or desires there, but it was still a weird situation. He’s not quite sure whether it’s worth it to mention to Nikki. It’s something he has to think about, as nothing actually happened. 

Speaking of Nikki, he contemplated all day whether to call him. He finally decided that at this point, it will be better to face him in person. He’s nervous, unsure whether Nikki is going to yell and freak out, sit and listen, or breakdown. Tommy knows how much he misses him. He can’t wait to get back. He can only hope that Nikki won’t shut him out.

What confuses him the most is his relationship with his wife versus the one with Nikki. Tommy loved being home with her. So many perfect moments. Enough of them, that he actually forgot to call Nikki within the first few days. Yet something is off. He can’t quite wrap his brain around it. He knows he loves her. He knows he’s attracted to her. He knows he likes to spend time with her. And he feels all of those things for Nikki too, but what is it that’s making him feel relieved to leave L.A. and go back to Vancouver?

Tommy decides to give his mind a rest and eat the airline dinner. He turns down a drink. Afterwards, he puts the seat back for a little nap. He naps for close to 2 hours, and is awoken by the voice of the pilot announcing that the plane will arrive in Vancouver in 20 minutes. He feels anxious he’s so close now. 

He pulls his chair back up, and stares out at the dark world below. The sun set while he was asleep. His thoughts float to Nikki, somewhere down there, not too far away. Then his thoughts shift to his wife. He realizes he doesn’t even know where she was going to for her press event. Given the way they left each other today, he didn’t have the chance to ask. He doesn’t have any idea where his wife is right now. It makes the distance between them feel greater, as he looks down. Tommy feels badly that he screwed up their last night to be together, but he has to wonder why she was so hands-off with him. Why didn’t she stop him from over indulging. Why didn’t she put him to bed, or even just pull him away from his friends to come settle down near her. He would have listened. At least he thinks he would have. He was a little rowdy, but not violent and belligerent. Things are always perfect until they’re not. Until his skin is greasy or his clothes are dirty. Or he smells like vomit or he makes a mess somewhere or says or wears the wrong thing or gets too loud. There’s always conditions. Only when the conditions are right, perfection ensues.

As for Nikki, well he’s far from perfect. And the two of them together; they’re a fucking mess. Yelling, name calling, and blaming. A lot of it is testosterone. And a lot of it is Nikki’s inability to get a grip on life. God, he tries, but it’s been an uphill battle. There’s so much for him to understand about life, love, and social norms. He only knows what he grew up with, and the rest from the dirty world of rock n’ roll. Tommy knows he’s not much better, having finished his formative years in the world of rock, and being an over-indulgent millionaire by age 20. But what Nikki does offer never comes with conditions. He never cares if Tommy smells or is loud and out of control. He doesn’t care what he wears. Nikki would have held Tommy’s hair back when he puked, then wiped his mouth off with his own shirt. He knows he would have put him to bed, and made sure he was OK. Yeah, he can be an asshole, and he definitely needs to learn how to communicate better. But there’s something about his love for Tommy that’s raw and unadulterated, and without conditions. Well, except the one they both agree on, which is to keep it private.

Tommy knows now what it was that was bothering him. He loves his wife, and knows he needs to accept her shortcomings, even when they’re not right. God knows that she accepts his; the worst kind, as he’s a cheater. He has a secretive relationship with Nikki, and there have been countless women. That hasn’t been so much of an issue these days. It flares up when they’re on tour. She doesn’t deserve that; none of that. He loves her, he doesn’t understand why he cheats. And she loves him, but it’s riddled with backhanded compliments and demands. So perfect on the surface, but fucked at the core. They keep up their appearances; even buying into it heavily themselves. But what’s at the foundation? Lust? The sensation of forbidden love; a mismatched couple who appear to defy the odds? There’s still quite a bit to unravel there, but Tommy believes he’s finally found the root of their dysfunction. What he really needs and wants right now is his Nikki. He is craving that unconditional core love that he gets from the most imperfect person that he knows. That’s what he wants, and he’s on his way home to go get it.

\-------------------------------

Back at Mick’s and Nikki’s apartment~

Mick comes home from a day of mostly being out. He spies Nikki flopped on the couch in front of the TV. He looks melted and drained. He picks his head up, when he hears Mick coming in, then lays it back down.

“Productive day, Nik?” Mick asks.

“Day off. Don’t care. Where’d you go?”

“Eh, all around. Bob invited me out to see some sites. You too, but you were too out of it. You gotta lay off those fucking pills. I think you would have had fun.”

“Well, I’m glad that you did. I’m sorry. I’ve just had trouble finding restful sleep lately.”

“Those damn pills are only making it worse. You’re going to become dependent on them before you know it.”

Nikki shrugs, then gets himself to a sitting position. “I’m good. I just needed a day to unwind. I think that I’ve seen at least 100 videos today. Is that a record?”

“You got some lofty goals there, kid.”

“You know me. Always driven.”

“Hopefully you drove yourself to the shower today.”

“Nah, took a detour to the couch.”

“Yeah, and now it’s contaminated. Where’s the Lysol?”

“Heh, you’re funny,” Nikki says, a dazed look on his face, running his hand through his greasy hair, making it stick up in unnatural directions.

“Are you OK? You look out of it. Did you eat?”

“I am out of it. Just wanted a lazy day. I’m going to have some leftovers, then maybe write or journal in my room. I’ll probably continue with my video streak for a while, then head to bed. Sounds so fucked for that to be coming from my mouth on a Saturday night, but I’m not in any sort of mood to really socialize. Maybe we can find something to do tomorrow. I think I’ll feel better.”

“OK. I appreciate your candidness. Still worry about you a bit.”

“No need to, Mick. I’m good. I’ll snap out of it soon,” Nikki says, heading to the kitchen.

\------------------------------------

Tommy arrives home, having caught a cab from the airport. It’s 10:45pm. He tosses his bag in his room, and wants to go over to the other apartment to see Nikki. He stands before the door. His heart is racing. Things have gotten too far away from them; too far away from what’s important, and Tommy is nervous. He takes a deep breath and knocks. Mick answers the door.

“Hey. You’re back. Come on in. Is Vince back too?” Mick inquires.

“Nope, just me. He’s coming back tomorrow. How are things here?

“Well, we still have a roof,” Mick shrugs.

“Is Nikki here?” Tommy says, shifting around out of nerves.

“Yeah. He’s in his room.”

“OK, thanks. I need to talk to him," Tommy says, walking towards Nikki's bedroom door.

“I think he’s sleeping,” Mick says, taking a seat back on the couch.

“Oh. Well, maybe I’ll check anyway.”

“Tom.”

“Yeah?” Tommy says, taking a step back from Nikki’s door, to acknowledge Mick.

“Nikk’s been having a rough week.”

Tommy looks concerned, “Is he OK? What happened?”

Mick shrugs, “He’s a fucking hot mess. His work has been careless and sloppy. He’s spacing out, and disappearing. And he doesn’t know that I hear him, but I know he’s been crying in his bedroom at night.”

Tommy is upset to hear that. He doesn’t say anymore, as he puts his hand on the doorknob, then he steps back again. “Hey Mick?” Tommy says, quietly.

“What’s up?”

“I think that I should let you know that I had a drink this weekend. Actually several,” Tommy reveals.

“That’s probably something that you should talk to your sponsor about.”

“I know. I just thought that I should be open about it to you.”

“Well, maybe you and your boy can work out your differences. He’s been downing sleeping pills like he’s getting paid to do it, and I fear he’s contemplating something stronger.”

Tommy’s heart starts pounding. Mick knows something. “Did Nikki tell you stuff?”

“Nope. He didn’t have to. It’s written in neon across both of your faces. He’s broken down. Go in there and fix things. I’m not going to bother you or rib you. Just do what you need to do.”

Tommy purses his lips, and just exhales loudly, while nodding his head. Strangely, he’s just found out that Mick knows about them, and it’s not causing any alarm in his head. Frankly, he doesn’t even give a shit right now, as if it’s the normal thing for a good friend to find out that you're involved relationally and sexually with another good friend. Maybe it will bother him later, but right now he only has Nikki on his mind, heartbroken over Nikki’s state of mind. He puts his hand back on the knob and opens the door.

Tommy sees Nikki, asleep on his stomach, faced away, a blanket only halfway covering him. He sees the bottle of pills on the night table next to him. He comes in, clicking the door closed behind him, and sits on the bed. He strokes Nikki’s back. Nikki, inhales raggedly once, exhales more quietly, but otherwise doesn’t stir, and then continues on with his quiet, steady breathing. Tommy doesn’t want to wake him up, so instead, he tucks Nikki’s outer arm in against his side, pulls the blanket up, lies down at his side, and wraps his arm around Nikki, feeling around for his other arm, which is tucked close to him; his hand still clutching a soggy tissue near his face. Tommy rests his chin on Nikki’s shoulder.

“I’m home, love,” Tommy whispers, closing his eyes, content to just lie here quietly, all night if he has to, even with Mick home, until Nikki wakes up. He feels exhaustion setting in, after a long day and a flight. Being next to Nikki calms him; his familiar breathing and scent, and the feel of his calloused hand. The sound of a heavy rain outside. Tommy drifts off to sleep.

\--------------------------------------

Tommy woke up a few times from Nikki shifting around in his sleep. The second time Tommy was awoken, he was relieved that Nikki finally turned on his side, allowing him to move in closer to him, now that his shoulder was tucked underneath him, and not in the way. Tommy nestled in and secured his embrace around Nikki, holding onto his hand firmly.

Shortly later, Nikki began to stir, sensing someone was next to him. He tried to remember what he was doing earlier in the night, which would have led someone to his bed. As a couple of scenarios flashed briefly through his head, he soon realized without rolling over who it was. He knows that warm embrace like no other. He wondered for a minute whether he was dreaming. How did this come to be? But he didn’t really care about the how, when, and why, just the who. The who was that all that mattered. He squeezed Tommy’s fingers that were tucked in his grasp and pulled his hand to his chest. Tommy’s hand was like a bandaid on his hurting heart.

Tommy was awoken once again by Nikki’s grip. “Nik?” Tommy says, in a whisper.

“You’re home?” 

“I’m home, Nikki. And there’s nowhere else in the world that I’d rather be right now,” Tommy breaths quietly into Nikki’s hair, near his ear.

“I needed you here. Please stay with me,” Nikki pleads softly.

“I’m not going anywhere. I couldn’t wait to be back with you. I never want to be without you.”

“I thought you didn’t want me anymore,” Nikki says, starting to tear up, sniffing.

“I never wanted you to feel that way. It couldn’t be further from the truth. I can’t even begin to tell you how much you mean to me, and how much I love you.”

“I love you too. I’m sorry that I can’t say it sometimes. If only I could express what’s in my heart and at the very core of my being. If you only knew.”

“I do know, love. The way you love me is perfect.” He kisses Nikki’s shoulder. “Let’s just lie here for the rest of the night in each other’s arms. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Just don’t let go of my hand, not tonight or tomorrow. You’re my lifeline,” Nikki whispers, shutting his eyes again.

“I’m here for you, love,” Tommy whispers, resting his head on the back of Nikki’s and shutting his eyes too.

In no time, Tommy can tell that Nikki has fallen back to sleep by his breathing pattern, a light snore, and the loosened grip on his hand. He’s sure that the sleeping pills are still doing their job, allowing him to fall into a sound sleep so quickly. Tommy isn’t as lucky. The rain has stopped, and there’s that annoying constant drip from the residual pools of rain on the roof, to the misaligned aluminum gutter. It’s not the first time Tommy has heard that damn drip from outside Nikki’s window, along with a glare of artificial light from the street lamp. He doesn’t understand how Nikki can ignore it. It rains a lot here, so it happens a lot. It’s steady, like a really slow metronome. It makes Tommy think back to his bedroom in his house; soft, clean, breezy, and moonlit. Perfect. But, perfect isn’t what he wants. He wants his arm around this bulky, stale, battle-scarred, snoring body; enrobed by artificial light. And that sound, that annoying, fucking, constant drip….. It’s telling him that he’s home. This is where his heart is. Tommy presses into Nikki, and soon drifts off to sleep comforted by the fucked-up familiarity of everything surrounding him.

END


End file.
